And He Said: I'll Always Be There
by HamPickleSandwich
Summary: When the life of the one you love is ripped away, how do you react? Shane Acker owns 9, not me. Rated T for language later on.
1. Chapter 1

**_This will be my first 9 fic posted on here that has more than one chapter. Hope you guys like it, my friends on the lovely 9 forum enjoyed it very much. Sorry for the choppy writing and the shortness of the chapters. _**

* * *

It had started out like any other day. 7 bitterly remembered burying her head into 9's shoulder to block out the morning sun once more, and the way he gently stroked her arm. He was so gentle and subtle, and that was what she liked about him best. When the sun peered right into their window, they would finally rise from the pile of rags that served as their shared bed- 9 would drape his arm loosely around her shoulders and kiss her softly. It was only a peck, but it warmed her for hours.

***

She had no idea that it would turn into the worst day of her life- no idea that she could ever feel so alone again. It had all happened when they came across a machine. It was perhaps the middle of the day, and all 9 of the stitchpunks had gone out to explore. What danger was there, now that the B.R.A.I.N had been defeated, their souls restored to their bodies? The answer lay with that one monster- probably the last one, but it had destroyed her to a far greater extent than any other machine had.

***

"7... get some sleep." 1's voice barely registered in her head, but she still shuffled away from her spot in the throne room. She felt weighed down, like her form was stuffed with lead and not lightweight mechanisms. Her throat felt like there was a sharp needle there, stabbing endlessly on the inside. A feeble voice pointed out that 2 would feel exactly the same, but she let it fade away morosely. There was too much grief to deal with.

***

"9!!!" 7 shrieked. The beast, which nobody could seem to describe, had whacked 9 with such a force that he banged into the wall of junk. A loud ripping noise could be heard, though she couldn't quite be sure of where it was from. 5 shot an arrow into it's side, aggravating it further. Though it had sustained a minor injury, it saw no problem in smacking 5 towards 9. The neophyte broke the mechanic's fall, and another ripping noise was heard.

"9's injured! Get out of there, both of you!!" 2 shouted. The thing was, 5, 9, and the beast were all on the other side of a chasm that had formed when a rock had fallen out of its place. There was now a gaping hole between the two burlap forms and their bretheren who watched in discomfort and fear. Then the worst happened. The beast, who would stop at nothing to make sure 9 and 5 perished, activated the one mechanism that nobody had expected. There was a loud beeping noise- everybody looked a little confused. Then, there it was: the look of pure fear on their tiny faces before the explosion. The beast had self-destructed.

"_NO!!!_" 2 screamed as his apprentice and the neophyte were flung into the chasm by the force of the blast. 7's world completely fell apart as the face of her lover disappeared from view, and all she did was scream.

***

"9!!" she shouted, flailing about in her bed. Of course, he wasn't there to comfort her. To the belief of herself and the others, 5 and 9 were both killed.


	2. Chapter 2

**_And here is chapter 2. This chapter is a little bit longer, I think. _**

* * *

Light came in a form of a dull grey haze. 7 had watched it through blurred vision-she was tired and melancholy after the events of the day before. In her heart and mind, there was a gaping hole which increased in size every minute, like drops of burning acid on living flesh. Needless to say, she did not bother to rise from her bed. 7 was listless; pondering her existence and its significance, wondering what she would benefit from ending it. Nothing had made her fall so hard before- nothing had hurt her as much as what she loved most.

***

2, on the other hand, had a better way of coping. He sat with 3 and 4 in a corner of the throne room, holding them as close as they wished to be held by him. They suffered in silence.

"He witnessed my death, but he did not let himself go to waste. I promised myself I would do the same." 2 murmured to the shaking twins. They simply held him tight, wishing for the grief to go away. 1 watched the breeze push dust around the world through a window, his optics blank with an emotion that hardly anyone had seen on him before. He had finally thought the world was safe... and now two crucial parts of the little group that he had kept together had stumbled into their demise. 1, the eldest stitchpunk and confident to boot, was truly depressed. Nothing could lighten his heart, not now. With a sigh, he glanced over at his best friend, who sat on the floor, endlessly sharpening one of his many weapons. Grind. Grind. Turn. Grind. Grind. Turn. Breathe in. Breathe out. Grind. Grind. Turn... 8 had pursued this pattern for hours, and now he had adopted a monotonous rhythm. It set the mood for the entire room, like a clock ticking endlessly. Tick. Tick. Tick. Grind. Grind. Turn. It was a little unnerving- 1 couldn't even hear his own breathing, let alone the breathing of the other stitch punks. 8 made the only noise in the room- as if he was the only one alive.

"Must you be so LOUD, 8?" he cried out abruptly. 1 wasn't quite sure what possessed him to yell so suddenly, but he did, and so he leapt of his throne and stormed out of the room, determined to leave before he completely broke down- which he wasn't quite sure he was going to do just yet, but it was for just in case. Just in case there was no hope. There never was. Not anymore.

***

Paper was scattered and torn around the entire room. It was crumbled, shredded, even burned- if it depicted either of those lost, it had to go. Unfortunately for 6, that was a lot of paper wasted. It piled high in the darkest corner, eerie and foreboding. To 6, 5 was closer than a brother... even closer than a lover. They shared a bond that was indescribable, not even by 6 himself, or 2 or 3 or 4. 9 was the philosopher- the only one who asked him for answers, though they were a little riddled themselves. That was just the way 6 was. He still appreciated that 9 had wanted his help, sometimes. Now both of them were gone, and there was a great big hollow where the world was. Where they used to be. 6 brushed one of the naturally white carpet fires away from his face- his head hung further than ever before, and for the first time they refused to defy gravity.

"Even my hair is mourning." he muttered to himself, before crumpling the next picture into a wad.

***

Night fell, and 7 had not moved all day. The look on her face was blank; scared. She couldn't cry, couldn't whimper... she was afraid to make the slightest noise- any noise or movement could break her into fragments and ruin her composure forever. She hardly dared to think of the past, only looking out onto the vast black ocean that was the future. How long before scars healed? How long before she was the only one still frozen? How long before the imprints of their presence faded away into the background until they were lost forever? She pondered this, long into the dark night. What would the next day bring? How would she cope with the rest of her life?


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3 ahoy! I enjoyed writing this chapter- this is the first time I have written from the twin's point of view. Hope you enjoy reading it. There be mention of 3/6 and 4/8 pairings. _**

* * *

Unlike the dull grey days that had crawled by for around a fortnight after that dreadful day, the dawn was a bright red sun, shining cheerfully on the world with a warm happiness. This left everything the light touched feeling refreshed- as if they had forgotten what had happened a long time ago. 3 and 4 lay sprawled atop the watchtower, basking in the sunlight and being warmed by its rays. Though they felt no better than they did the day before, or the day before that, there was a cheerful sun, a gentle warm breeze, and that was all that mattered.

_**After all, there's nothing wrong with enjoying a bit of sunlight. We've been holed up in the library for so long, and we did not get enough time to relax during that desperate hour-**__  
It wasn't just an hour!  
__**Ugh, NOT LITERALLY, 4!**_

3 rolled her eyes as 4 blinked irritably to herself. 3 and 4 did not differ in many ways- they were twins, after all. But, they still had their arguments. 3 was more carefree than 4 was- 4 was more shy, organised, and a little pedantic. When distressed, she was more so than usual, and 3 was left feeling the tiniest bit frustrated. There was silence between the pair as the warm sunrise turned into a crisp and beautiful morning. 4 sat up, facing 3 in a crosslegged position. 3 blinked lazily at her sister.

_**Something wrong, 4?**__  
Well, yes. I mean- I think we need to talk.  
__**Talk?**__  
About- about the accident.  
__**Do we have to? Right now?**__  
I think we do. The sun will help.  
__**...I suppose he will.**_

3 sighed, sitting up, positioning herself so her body was symmetrical to the form of her twin. Her hands folded rather naturally in her lap, while 4 rubbed her optic nervously.

_**Uh... what do you think happened?**__  
We were both there, 3. The beast exploded.  
__**I mean... what if they were still out there?**__  
They haven't returned since the accident.  
__**That's exactly my point.**__  
Point?  
__**They could be out there, lost... hurt... but alive.**__  
Don't ever say that again!!!  
__**What? Why not?**__  
Just how do you think 2 would feel if you so much as let that slip around him! You know he would get his hopes up, and... if he found them...  
__**Oh. I guess you're right.**__  
Not to mention poor 7.  
__**Yeah... 7. She hasn't left her room since the accident.**__  
I overheard 8 saying that she hasn't left her bed! Oh, 7... it was so unlike her to fall so hard- to fall in love at all! Just like in the stories we asked her to read to us!  
__**She loved him so much... but it was so romantic...**__  
You just wish 6 treated you like that.  
__**Yeah... wait, WHAT? NO!**__  
Yes! You finally admitted it! You like 6!  
__**No I don't!!!**__  
Yes you do!!!  
__**NO I DON'T!!!**__  
YES YOU DO!!!  
__**No. I. Don't.**__  
Yes. You. Do.  
__**You like 8!**__  
Yes. WAIT!!!  
__**HAH!**_

"What in Creator's name are you two talking about?" 2 asked as he climbed up onto the watchtower. He was almost sent crashing to the ground as 3 swung around behind him to hide from her angered sibling. 3 peeked out under 2's arm, blinking up at him.

_**She likes 8.**__  
NOOOO I DOOOONNNNNN'T!_

"Girls, this isn't really a time or place for games. Look around- the ruins are beautiful before the sun reaches the centre of the sky." he scolded gently, with a wise edge to his voice. He was right- he was always right- the ruins looked lovely, despite the fact that 3 found them rather grotesque at the best of times.

"5 used to love coming up here in the mornings. Before... I used to join him up here every morning. I have decided to continue the tradition." he continued, gesturing the the very spot on which 5 used to stand. The floorboards looked a little worn there- 3 held back a gasp as her imagination brought an image of 5 to her on that very spot. He looked happy. 3 exchanged a glance with 4, who stared at the spot, wide-eyed. Once again, they had shared their thoughts with a telepathy that existed in the minds of twins. A great sadness came upon 3. 5 would never stand in that spot again...

"Cheer up, 3. After all, neiher 5 or 9 would have wanted us to be sad. They would have wanted us to move on, to find new things! They would have wanted us to keep fulfilling our purpose- to live." 2 told her, though 3 noticed that his optics were tight. He was trying to be strong. He was failing rather miserably.

_**...You know she likes 8?**_ 3 blinked, bringing her first random thoughts to light. 2 somehow understood their language, and 3 decided to use that advantage to help. He smiled disbelievingly.

"No..."  
_**Yes, she does. She denies it. **__  
That's because I DON'T LIKE 8!!!_  
"There's nothing wrong with liking 8, child. You know how he likes to watch you play sometimes."  
_He does? What about 6?_  
"6? Why 6?"  
_3 likes 6.  
__**Nuh-uh!**__  
You admitted it before!  
__**No I didn't!**__  
You so did!  
__**I did not!**__  
You did too!_  
"Girls, don't argue. You'll never get answers from arguments." 2 said, before taking one last look at the horizon. The sun had not moved much, but it still looked like the world was celebrating.

"The world has moved on far too quickly for my liking." he mumbled bitterly, before leaving the twins by themselves at the top of the watchtower in a hurry. 3's heart went out to 2- he was trying so hard.


	4. Chapter 4

**_I didn't portray 6 as well as I did in Giving Back IMO, but hopefully it'll suffice. Happy reading. _**

* * *

It was late afternoon in the throne room, and the tension was thick enough to cut. The pile of papers grew as 6 transferred the blank scraps from unfinished notebooks found in the library to his quarters. 1 watched him with bored optics as he hurried from one side of the room to the other, while 8 watched him with curiousity. Apart from the cruel voices in his head, they were his only company as he restocked his paper resources. He never had enough paper- there were too many things to draw.

"That's a lot of paper." 8 did not sound unkind with his words, but his deep voice boomed so suddenly in the silent room that 6 jumped, a little whimper escaping from his lips. 1 gave 8 a stern look for disturbing the peace, and 6 merely shrugged.

"I can never have enough paper." he replied with a cheer that sounded strangled, forced. 1 gave 6 a look that was not quite angry, but disappointed. There was something else too- 1 was searching for something, something that had been missing within the artist since the accident. The artist picked up the stack of paper in his arms, somehow able to transport the lot out of the throne room. He didn't want to be stared at any longer. With a hopeful glance at 1, he began his journey to his quarters. Not wanting to be disturbed, 6 moved at a quick trot, suddenly eager to figure out what 1's expression meant. Unfortunately, he was barely 3 steps out of the throne room when-

"Oh. Hello." he greeted 3 nervously. She looked rather embarrassed today, and without her sister. It was strange.

"You're alone." She blinked back in a reply that 6 did not understand. He nodded, before continuing on his way. However, 3 gently touched his arm, startling him enough so that his papers were dropped. The artist sighed before crouching down to pick up his things. The elder twin blinked furiously- an apology. 6 shook his head, although 3 was scrambling to pick up everything out of his direct reach.

"It's ok-oh." Their hands brushed, and 3 jerked back like she had been burned. This time, she was the one to sigh. 6 stood once more, trotting away. He took one last look behind him, but 3 was gone. Once again, he was alone. Alone. He had never told anyone, but being alone frightened him. He was alone with the voices. Alone. The word repeated itself in a rhythm which harmonised with the steps which echoed on the stone floor. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. ALONE. ALONE. ALONE.

"STOP!" he cried out suddenly- but he was in his quarters. Slowly, shakily, he placed his papers in a neat stack by the latest jar of ink. Then he sat on his bed- a tissue box filled with scraps of lint, covered with a rag. Another rag and a (surprisingly intact) cotton wool ball served for his blanket and pillow. He stared at the pile of scrapped papers- the papers with the deceased. A stabbing sensation bubbled up in his throat once more, but he tried his best to ignore it. Words began to whisper in his ear.

_You're all alone  
He left you  
It's your fault they're gone  
He didn't care  
Neither did the neophyte_

The menacing whispers were monotonous and flat, like they were simple words read off a page with no sense of punctuation. 6 was not aware of the fact that he had stood up, staggering across the room to his ink pot. Pen nib fingers dragged paper and ink across the room, before furiously spattering droplets around the striped artist. He was moaning, occasionally hitting himself on the side of his head.

_ALONE. ALONE. ALONE.  
They all hate you  
We'll be back  
ALONE. ALONE. ALONE.  
1 is very disappointed  
2 is struggling  
3 hates you  
4 doesn't care  
7 is dying  
8 wants to hurt and rip and tear you apart  
ALONE. ALONE. ALONE.  
YOU DESERVE TO DIE.  
IT'S YOUR FAULT 5 AND 9 DIED.  
ALONE! ALONE! ALONE!_

"STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW! LIES! LIES! LIES!!!" 6 shouted, blocking where his hearing sensors were inside his head. Rather violently, he stood up, lifted the ink pot above his head, and threw it at his feet- with a force that caused the glass to shatter in many directions. He could feel some shards tear through his material skin, but that wasn't enough to make him care. The spattered and broken image of 5 and 9 was becoming covered with ink. 6 held his key with a vice-like grip. What had he done?

"6?" a voice said behind him. It was the elder doll, 2. What had he done? Why was he acting this way? 2 was far closer to 5 than he, why did he want the pity? He was selfish!

_ALONE!  
SELFISH!  
COWARD!  
IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!_

He shuddered before letting himself fall onto his side in the puddle of ink, being half drenched by the murky black liquid. He whimpered to himself, begging for the voices to stop, begging for death, begging for it to all go away. 5 and 9 had to come back.

"6... they're gone. I know it's hard, but be strong. I-" 2 started, before a strangled noise emitted from his throat, and he was crying.

_SELFISH COWARD!_

"Sorry...sorry...sorry..." 6 whimpered between each shuddered breath. 2 pulled him up, and before he knew it, the elder doll was embracing him. However, it wasn't to give him strength. It was for support. 6 gripped his key with one hand, and returned the tight embrace with the other. The artist and the inventor sat together for quite some time, grieving for 5- his lost soulmate, his lost son.

------------------------------------------------------------------  
**_Alright, before I leave you to ponder this chapter and hopefully give me some feedback, I'll just explain that last bit. 2 couldn't stay strong forever- that wormed into my head and has gnawed at my brain for a while now. Now, the whole soulmate bit. Soulmate doesn't actually mean that they are lovers, specifically. I like to think that soulmates are two people that are especially close- closer than family or lovers, so close that the bond is undescribable and, in the case of 5 and 6, more subtle and natural than any other kind of bond._**


	5. Chapter 5

**_This is the first time that I've written using 8's perspective on the world. It was an interesting goal to accomplish, and I hope you all enjoy it. N'awww... I just want to huggle 2. _**

* * *

Within the group of 7 stitch punks, feelings were divided. There was 2 and 6, who missed 5 with an intensity that would have made the mechanic embarrassed, hiding behind his hands. There was 7, who grieved for 9 so much that she was temporarily paralysed by it, moving nothing but her eyes as she blinked monotonously. There was 1, 3, and 4, who missed them both equally and (in 3 and 4's case) were unsure who to comfort first, or more. Then there was 8.

"I've never felt so confused in my life." 8 muttered to himself as he sat outside on a loose tyre just outside the cathedral. 8 knew that he wasn't that bright- 1 reminded him of it constantly. Not that he minded, of course. 8 liked being physically stronger than the others. When they were younger, 7 and 8 were constantly battling each other with sticks- eventually 5 plain refused to patch them up if they tore each other's skin due to a lack of thread- and sometimes 8 won. That would be when he chucked his stick away and ducked down to pick 7 up by the ankles. 7 would always whack his legs with the stick as hard as she could, but it didn't hurt much, and everyone was always in hysterics by the end. 8 was pretty sure that 7 would never feel up to touching a weapon again, let alone fight him. Then 1 went crazy with rules and 7 ran away. The friendship between him and 5 had waned until 5 was plain scared of him- a fact which he resented. That was never really repaired, and now 5 was gone... Not to mention 9. He remembered meeting 9. Of course, he didn't show it at the time but he was glad that he wasn't the youngest anymore. The largest stitch punk stared at the ground, wondering why he felt this way.

"Why am I not crying like everyone else?" he asked nobody in particular, feeling ashamed. It wasn't like he was jumping for joy, but everybody else was really quite sad for their losses. 8 didn't feel very different... if anything, he felt more sober than usual but that was it! Was he a monster? It was a second before he realised that he could hear multiple sets of footsteps crunching on the rough ground to his right. He looked around, noticing 1 and 4, followed by 2, 3 and 6. 1 had a sense of purpose on his face, and 8 straightened up, before dropping off the edge of the tyre. He landed on his feet heavily.

"Good, you saw us. Family meeting." 1 said, with a businesslike tone.

"...Family?" 8 asked. 1 had never referred to them as family. It was always 'we' or 'us'.

"Family." 2 said hoarsely, a bitter edge to his tone. He had been crying yesterday. 8 knew- he found them sitting in ink, sobbing rather loudly. 1 looked back at 2 once more, before sitting next to where 8 stood. 8 gave a sigh of relief. Meetings were familiar, distracting... He wouldn't be able to wonder why he felt so different if there was a meeting. He watched them as they sat in numerical order- 2 leaning heavily on his cane as he eased to the ground, 3 and 4 edging closer as they noticed the gaps. 6 sat next to where 8 stood, before he finally sat down. The group was so...small.

"Where's 7?" he asked nobody in particular. He feared he already knew the answer.  
"Bed. She's broken. Like a doll." 6 murmured. 8 stared back at 6 in awe. 7 had given up on her life so quickly, and she was the one to run away to fight the machines...

"We're going to give 5 and 9 an official send off. A funeral, you might say." 1 began. 8 glanced at 1. What was a-

"Funeral?" The question was asked before 8 got around to it. 6 gripped his key, looking around nervously as if he shouldn't have asked the question.

"Yes, 6. A funeral. A ceremony to celebrate their lives. It's been nearly 3 weeks since... since the accident. The humans would have funerals just days after their loved ones died." 1 explained, his voice actually sounding gentle for once. 8 was amazed at what grief had done to 1. Had it done anything to him? He noticed 3 and 4 flickering to each other, before they tapped 2 on the shoulder. 2 had been staring at the ground blankly.

"Hm?"

_**Click. Flash flicker click.  
**__Click click click flash._

"I'll be fine. We all will. I asked 1 to do this for me." 2 whispered in his hoarse voice. 8 frowned a little. 2 had never acted this way before. He always used to say that there was no time to mope about, that there was always some inspiration if you knew where to look! So this is what death had done to 2. Turned him completely against his mottos.

"I found some black cloth hidden in the inner chapel the other day, we can use that. There was proper attire worn at funerals- black showed respect for the deceased and the grieving." 1 continued, looking at each of them meaningfully for an equal amount of time.

_**Click flicker click flash flicker click click.**_

"3 says she wants to play music. She has appropriate songs on the records and in her memory." 2 murmured, before fading into unawareness once more.

"Saving Grace." 6 said suddenly. 3 gave a little smile and nodded. 6 smiled back, but their hopeful exchange was brief. 8 had no idea what was going on. Suddenly he became aware of the younger twin watching his movements with one wary optic. She looked quickly back at 1, giving him quick little glances. What was that about?

"When are we doing this?" he asked, driving the strange observation out of his mind.

"I think at the end of this week. On Sunday. That's 4 days, excluding today and Sunday." 1 replied, for once explaining things plainly instead of leaving him confused. After 5 was born, the stitch punks stopped keeping track of the days. 1, 3 and 4 were the only ones that still knew what day it was. 5 had been rather proud to know the days of the week by heart... what were they again? There was Sunday... the day before that started with an S... and the next day was One-day or something. And there were 7 days in all. Oh! Today was Two-day! Wait... if there was One-day and Two-day... then why wasn't Sunday Seven-day instead? 8 pondered this until 6 brought him out of his reverie once more.

"7 needs to come. Closure."

"Oh, she'll come. She has been in that bed for nearly 3 weeks! She may not want to, but she has had enough rest. I don't care how bad she feels. We are learning to come to terms with it, and so must she." 1 said rather sternly, though it wasn't directed at 6.

"Good luck with that." 2 muttered under his breath. 1 ignored him. 8 looked above the head of the others- it had been a golden afternoon. Now the sun was beginning to set, and a reddish haze highlighted their forms. 8 glanced at 1 once more- asking permission to stand up with his eyes. 1 nodded, getting up, brushing himself off.

"Well, this was a good meeting. Be back inside before dark, all of you." Clearly, 1 had a better grip on the world than everyone else, as they sat another minute, looking a little bewildered. Finally, 8 rose, by which time 1 was gone. He held a hand out to the frail inventor, who took the offer with a whispered 'Thanks.'. The twins and 6 got up, and they walked back to the cathedral together. 2 moved sluggishly, taking almost no notice of where he was going. 4 held his arm, moving in between the elder and the guard with a strange look on her face. 3 and 6 walked together in silence, doing nothing more than bringing up the rear. 8 stared ahead, wondering what was to become of him.

_Am I a monster because I don't feel anything? _


	6. Chapter 6

**_And now return to our lovely warrior, 7. She is a doll. And please don't kill me for thinking 9 would smell like sandalwood. It just fits. Just like how 2 would smell like birthday candles. *shot*_**

* * *

The right side of the bed had remained undisturbed since the accident. There was still a faint aroma of sandalwood there, of love and caring and philosophies considered long into the night. There was still a dent in the pillow, and the sheets were still thrown back, showing the indentation where 9's form used to lie. The left side of the bed had been occupied since that accident- somehow, 7 had remained still, even when unconscious. Strangely enough, 7 preferred being conscious more than she did dreaming. When she fell asleep, she relived everything that had happened since they met.

"_You dropped this."_

"_I started this. Now I need to finish it."_

""_7... I know you probably won't forgive me, in fact, you can pummel me half to death right now if you want to, but I'm really, really sorry. For everything."_

_You know 5 would never let us live this down._

"_I love you, 7. Nothing is ever going to change that."_

"_There's a lot out there we haven't seen yet."_

"_We'll all go!" _

"_GET BACK!"_

"_RUN!"_

7 woke up abruptly, her heart pounding. She hated it. Hated the very memory of the day he died. It happened nearly every night- she would live through everything good that had happened... and then it would all go bad. Everything did, she supposed, but why did it have to while she slept? Why couldn't she have a random dream, like 2 doing a waltz with a spoon? Or the twins actually speaking? Or 6 being normal? The possibilities floated through her head, before a brainwave struck her. **The best dream she could have would be if 5 and 9 were alive again. **Her breath caught, and a strange noise broke out of the silence. It was her voice, eager to make itself heard after weeks of being unused. It was then that 7 discovered it was dawn- the sun was just emerging on the horizon. As if being controlled by some other force, the artificial muscles inside her pulled, and she was sitting up in her bed. She felt strange- still weighed down. Wait- there was a reason why she was getting up. She remembered 4 days ago vividly.

***

"_Good, you're awake." 1 said, marching into the room with a strange air about him. He was trying to maintain authority yet again. 7 stared at him unblinkingly._

"_You're going to get out of bed in four days to join us. We're going to give 5 and 9 a proper send off." he explained. 7 did not make an effort to move. _

"_You will attend, and eventually you will heal." 1 muttered to her, his voice almost threatening. In the back of 7's mind, she knew that he was looking out for her._

_***_

There was a black poncho on the tiny workbench in the corner of the room. 3 had brought it in just the day before, ducking out before 7 noticed her. It fitted over her head perfectly, hanging over her shoulders elegantly. It smelt musty, like it was once covered in dust. There was a cracked mirror hanging on the wall- and 7 stared at her reflection.

"You look beautiful as ever, 7." a familiar voice told her. 2 made himself known by walking in range of the reflection. The no-nonsense shoelaces which normally tied up his leather vest were replaced with black suede. He was not wearing his hat for once, and the metal plate on the back of his head began to glint a little dully at the emerging sunlight. He did not smile, and neither did she, but 7 still nodded in appreciation.

"I'm glad you're coming down today. We were getting quite worried about you." he continued, his gentle hands straightening the poncho so the seam hung directly down her back. 7 watched him in interest as he fastened something onto the warm black fabric. There was a little silver brooch there. 2 liked to make his own crafts as well as inventions- there was a tiny fragment of rhinestone inside a tin heart. As she admired the fragile jewellery, she said the first thing she had in weeks.

"Thanks, 2. It's lovely." she thanked him quietly. Her voice sounded weird. She looked back at the reflection, and nearly cried. Staring back at her was a little doll, fragile as porcelain and lost in the world. Her eyes were tight and wary. She also looked very, very tired- like she had been to neglect and abuse, when really her life since the end of the fight had been the exact opposite. She sighed, glancing at 2. He looked eerily similar.

"It had been lying around for a while. I thought you'd like it." the inventor replied, letting out a little sigh. With it, the tension eased a little. 7 put her arms around the elder doll briefly before turning away from the cracked reflection. 7 and 2 left the room together, without saying a word. The others waited in the throne room- it was time.


	7. Chapter 7

**_This part of the story would take place in the late afternoon. The song is 'La Vie En Rose' by Edith Piaf- quite a nice song, if you ask me. I suppose I better remind y'all that I'm not Shane Acker and don't own any of this. I WISH I WAS THAT COOL. Ok, onto the chapter in which 7 drops the f-bomb. (This is in fact true.)_**

* * *

The weather was eerily bright for a day that was so melancholy. It was strange, that the world seemed to rejoice at the death of the most loved. 6 stitchpunks stood quietly with their backs to the sun, as the last one quietly pushed crosses into the soft ground. Neither had a number- they were simply crosses.

"Today we say goodbye to 5 and 9." 1 began, though he did not move from his spot. He made no attempt to show authority.

"It is an understatement to say that they will be missed by all. We are a family, broken by this terrible loss. We have found this hard to handle, but I would like to take this oppourtunity to speak about the deceased, in the hopes that they are watching over us right now, and their souls and ours can be set free." he continued, finishing with a strange tremor to his normally confident tone. His black cape ruffled in the slight breeze. There was a short, awkward silence before 6 spoke up.

"I remember when he found me. 5 found me. It was dark, and I was lost. A-and he showed the l-light... and h-he t-took me to the cathedral." 6's voice was quiet as he scampered toward the cross on the left. The striped artist squatted by the makeshift grave, running his pen nib fingers gently along the wood of the cross. He glanced back at the others, his optics tight.

"He p-protected me from the monsters. I was s-so scared... a-and he made them go a-away. F-5 was a-always there... a-and now he's gone..." 6 trailed off, before settling on his backside. He rocked back and forth slowly, mouthing words to himself.

"5 was a good guy. 9, too." 8 said quickly, looking around nervously. He truly didn't know how to act. 7 nodded.

"5 was generally a great student. He was willing to learn, and held great trust in all of us. I remember one time he stayed up all night to finish a project that I had suggested to him! He certainly was tired, young 5 was... 5 was... 5 was like a son to me..." 2 spoke softly, with a fraction of humour in his voice. 6 and 2 locked eyes for a moment- almost in understanding.

"5 was a valuable member of our family." 1 said, finality lacing his voice. 7 frowned. Was she the only one who cared that 9 was gone too? She stepped forward, ignoring everyone else. The cross on the right seemed a little more foreboding than 5's, but she needed to do this. Attempting to swallow the consistent lump in her throat (though she failed rather miserably), she reached the cross. Her hand ran along it tenderly, ignoring the rest of existence. Kneeling down in front of it, she began to reminisce, speaking quietly to herself. She wondered if anyone else was listening, or if they were so wrapped up in their loss of 5 that they ignored her too.

"9 is always going to stay with me. Even now, I remember when he said he loved me for the first time, and how we stayed close in slumber. He made the coldest nights warm again- and he made my heart melt just after we met. He looked so shy... He still looked shy the morning that he left me. Don't forget that... that 9 saved us all. We're alive because of 9. Now he's gone." she spoke passionately, her words a little bitter at the end. Nobody else spoke after 7 finished, and she bowed her head.

_Click click click. Flash flicker flick._  
_**Flash click flicker.**_

There was a record player next to the graves, with a pile of (surprisingly undamaged) records next to them. 3 and 4 pulled one out carefully, placing it on the record player gingerly. After placing the needle down, the song began to play.

_Des yeux qui font baisser les miens,  
Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche—  
Voilà le portrait sans retouche  
De l'homme auquel j'appartiens. _

There was silence as 7 began to shake, a fictitious revelation pouring through her mind. She looked back up.

_Quand il me prend dans ses bras,  
Il me parle tout bas,  
Je vois la vie en rose._

"You... did ANY OF YOU care? Or were you all to wrapped up in losing our healer?! I loved 5 very much, I won't deny that. 5 was a combination of a brother and a best friend to me. But this stinks! At least 8 has ACKNOWLEDGED that 9 is gone too!"

_Il me dit des mots d'amour,  
Des mots de tous les jours,  
Et ça me fait quelque chose.  
Il est entré dans mon cœur,  
Une part de bonheur  
Dont je connais la cause.  
C'est lui pour moi,  
Moi pour lui dans la vie,  
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie.  
Et dès que je l'aperçois,  
Alors je sens en moi  
Mon cœur qui bat. _

7 almost threw herself to her feet, her black poncho swishing in the wind. The weather had made a noticable change, the sun almost hiding from 7's impending wrath behind a cloud. The cloud was a dark purple, threatening downpour at any moment.

_Des nuits d'amour à plus finir,  
Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place,  
Les ennuis, les chagrins s'effacent,  
Heureux, heureux à en mourir._

"YOU'RE ALL COWARDS! You grieve for somebody JUST LIKE YOU, and FORGET about the guy who saved our lives!!! What is WRONG WITH YOU?!?!" After that, 7 didn't even know what she was saying. She ranted complete nonsense under the clapping of thunder.

"I remember the last time he nearly left us after he brought us back- do you remember, 1? You WERE THE ONE WHO WANTED HIM EXILED, AFTER ALL! You know what he told me? HE SAID HE'D ALWAYS BE THERE FOR ALL OF US!!! AND NOW HE'S FUCKING GONE! NOW HE'S GONE AND NONE OF YOU FUCKING CARE!!! 5 AND 9 ARE GONE!!!" she screeched, flinging her arms about with menacing gestures. The whole group stepped back, and 6 ran behind 2. With that, the first drops of rain began to fall.

_Quand il me prend dans ses bras,  
Il me parle tout bas,  
Je vois la vie en rose.  
Il me dit des mots d'amour,  
Des mots de tous les jours,  
Et ça me fait quelque chose.  
Il est entré dans mon cœur,  
Une part de bonheur  
Dont je connais la cause.  
C'est lui pour moi,  
Moi pour lui dans la vie,  
Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie.  
Et dès que je l'aperçois,  
Alors je sens en moi  
Mon cœur qui bat._

Little droplets rapidly turned into downpour as 7 became lost for words. She shook all over, making strange gargling noises in her throat. The record player was under sufficient shelter for it and it's records, but the 6 stitchpunks who watched on were running for cover in their home. It wasn't just the rain that made them run, it was the shattered look in 7's optics. They expected her to follow, but as they got inside it was discovered that she did not.

_Know that I'll always be there for you, 7. I'll be here for you and everyone else, if it's the last thing I ever get to do. I love you, 7. Nothing can ever change that. _

It was but a whisper in her head as she screamed into the rain, sobbing like she never had before.


	8. Chapter 8

**_The song in this chapter is 'Saving Grace' by Pete Murray. A nice song. _**

* * *

The tension had thinned out considerably, despite the fact that the female warrior was outside in the pouring rain, screaming her heart out to the wind. Everyone felt a little guilty- after all, they hadn't really talked about 9 earlier, and it was his joint funeral with 5, too. However, it was too long before any of them made moves to rectify their actions. 2 glanced at 3, who sat with 6 in the corner, playing a song from her memory as quietly as she could. It was a gentle song.  
_  
I got you, you know I heard you say  
Blossom until a beautiful day  
The sunlight keep sighing on my face  
And I would see ya even in deep outer space_

"How long has it been?" 8 asked, breaking the silence. 2 looked at the guard, who was staring out the window. It was hard to see beyond the downpour. Slowly, 2 stood.

"A while. I think I'll go find her." he said flatly. The rain would do her damage if she stayed.

"No! 2, stay here. She will learn on her own. Besides, it's bucketing! You'll rust!" 1 protested.

"So will she, if she doesn't return, and I doubt she will on her own. Besides, something feels wrong. She doubts that we cared for 9... but I know I did. He was such a cheerful lad after we won the fight. If she knows that we cared, maybe she can let go." 2 explained, grabbing two small sheets of plastic.

"Besides, I'm taking protection with me."

_And all and time you know I'll see you again and again  
And every night I'm gonna hold you and hold and then  
Before the line I will rescue and then we'll begin  
Start it all over again_

It wasn't that hard to find 7. She was still at the gravesite, though her screams had changed to tortured sobs since the others left her. It was a pitiful sight, and 2 felt a little pain. He sighed, approaching the female warrior warily. 7 cringed as she locked her gaze with his.

"I'm sorry, 7. Come inside, you'll rust." he said as quietly as the noise of rain allowed, offering her the other sheet of plastic. With a shaking hand, she took the plastic, wrapping it around her wet form, and over her head like a hood. She looked so lost, like she had acquired amnesia.

_I love ya and how you clear my way  
Guide me until a brand new day  
And your eyes you know I found my place  
See you, you were my saving grace_

3 and 4 fussed over their mother figure as she came inside the throne room, dragging her away towards her room. 4 tossed a dry scrap of material over 7 as they walked, the female warrior lagging behind. 2 hung his plastic sheet on a hook in the corner, approaching the other dolls.

"She'll be fine."

_And all and time I'm gonna see you again and again  
And every night I'm gonna hold you and hold and then  
Before the line I will rescue and then we'll begin  
Start it all over again_

7 felt incredibly... blank. She was tucked up inside her bed, though 9's side was still undisturbed. 3 and 4 had cleared out as soon as they felt their job had been done, and though she was grateful for the privacy, she didn't really want to be alone. Sure, it was embarrassing being seen in a state of utter weakness, but she felt so empty and the silence was deafening, strangling her and not letting her breathe at all and she just wanted to start screaming again-

"7?" 2 poked his head into to room, his voice barely raised above a murmur. 7 rubbed her bleary eyes- it had indeed been a very long day. She tried to speak, but it seemed that it had been overused from screaming. Instead she nodded to him, shifting aside to let him sit on the edge of the bed. Her side, of course.

"I know this is going to be a very hard time... but stay strong. You probably don't want to listen to me right now, but this isn't what they would have wanted. He wouldn't have wanted this, not at all." he told her quietly, caressing her cheek like a father would. She shivered at his gentle touch, remembering things she didn't want to think about... when he used to do the same thing when she was too tired to carry on talking... She sat up, burying her head into 2's shoulder. She was too weak to cry anymore, but she still needed the comfort. _2 was doing so much better than she..._

_Don't ever wanna miss you  
Don't ever wanna forget you the way you are  
the day_

"He really is gone, isn't he? Both of them. They're not coming back." 7 mumbled flatly.

"No..."

"I just want him back. I want them both back."

"We all do, 7. We all do." 2 replied with a sigh. He took a deep shuddering breath before pulling away from the embrace, glancing at the preserved side of the bed.

"You'll need to straighten that sometime. We're all moving on. It's a slow and painful process, but we can't hold onto them forever. I suppose I must sound like a hypocrite now, but things... they're getting easier. I'm going to finish some of 5's old and forgotten projects..." he trailed off, realising that he was beginning to ramble. He gave 7 the tiniest of smiles- something about the day had lifted his spirit. Something, a tiny little thing inside him- it had let go. As if he knew it would all be ok. With that, he kissed 7 on the forehead like a father would his daughter, and left the room.

"Goodnight, 7."

"Night, 2."  
7 lay back in her bed, again staring at the ceiling. She didn't want to let 9 go... but she had to, sometime. She rolled over, letting the (slowly fading) scent of sandalwood reach her senses. She wouldn't do it just yet, but maybe soon.  
_  
And all and time I'm gonna see you again and again  
And every night I'm gonna hold you and hold and then  
Before the line I will rescue and then we'll begin  
Start it all over again._


	9. Chapter 9

**_Aaaaaaand- it's chapter 9! My favourite chapter, simply because I thought of this one before I wrote the story at all. Ah, memories of mental images... Try to spot the Princess Bride reference, too!_**

* * *

It is a common occurrence to have strange dreams, dreams in which the person dreaming them lives through a situation that they wouldn't imagine themselves doing. For instance, humans would have dreams of flying, dreams of lovers admitting their feelings at long last, dreams of friends and acquaintances all going on a trip together to places that don't seem real at all, but they are to the dreamer. Sometimes, the dream seems so real, and so right, that they react consciously- laughing, or crying, or talking. It is the same with stitch punks, particularly with 6, who would wake himself up in the night with his reactions. 7 had had this sort of dream once or twice before, and here it was again. It was dark, and the rain pattered outside, and she was in her bed. Somebody else was in the dream- moonlight dappling over their face like droplets of spilt milk on beige carpet. Primarily, 7 felt confused and a little hurt by the vision- like human females, 7 didn't like to be toyed with. Unfortunately, she was too tired to do much about it- though it seemed her imagination was playing a horrible prank on her. She shifted a little, so half her face was lifted from obscurity.

"Eh?"

"7..."

"Oh..."

The figure blinked, a little confused. Strangely enough, 7's state of mind hadn't allowed her to 'place the face'. The figure was male, and held the sights and scents and sounds that were more familiar to her than breathing, but the name would not come to her. This reasoning led her to believe it was a dream, even though the figure's next question debated that a little.

"Are you awake?"

"No." she mumbled in reply. It was a truthful answer- it wasn't like the figure existed in reality, in her walk of life. Dreams did that to her- created characters that never existed, at least not to her. The figure smiled at her answer, though for some reason they didn't look convinced. A very strange dream this was turning out to be...

"Do you want me to go away?" the figure asked, placing his head on crossed arms. Their eyes were now level- though 7 let hers close again. The figure disappeared from her vision.

"No." 7 repeated, opening her eye again. So familiar... who was it? She had known him once...

"Well... in that case... may I, uh, come in?" he asked. His voice was the epitome of awkward, as if he was wondering why he was here in the first place. 7 suddenly understood- the figure wasn't supposed to be here. She couldn't let him in when she was trying so hard to gather the strength to let him go... She let out a little moan- a negative sound. The figure's hopeful smile disappeared in a flash, very confused and truly let down.

"I can't. I'm trying to let you go."

"Let me go?"

"Yeah." she confirmed, wondering if she sounded defiant or just plain tired.

"Are you... with someone else now?" the figure asked. 7 said nothing at first, as her thoughts were too scattered to comprehend. As her sense of self gathered once more, she tried to order her thoughts to answer the strange question. What had that have to do with anything? Her arm reached around her head, embracing her pillow.

"No... You're dead, is all." 7 explained, nuzzling the pillow. The figure straightened, his head lifting off his arms. 7 noticed a dangling ornament hanging off seemingly nowhere on his chest, glinting in the faint moonlight. She blinked her optic, a thought clicking in her head.

"Um, 7? I'm here. I'm very much alive." he said. She almost identified him when-

"Nah... You're a dream."

"If I'm a dream, then why won't you let me in?" the figure asked. 7 sighed, yanking the blankets back on 9's side of the bed. She felt very disloyal by doing that, but still she said nothing as the figure lowered himself onto the bed gratefully. She sighed as he pulled the blanket back toward him, carefully making sure that they had an equal amount of blanket. Again, 7 wondered who it was. There was a zipper on his chest, but it wasn't- There were tiny little stitches all around his chest. He was different from the stitch punk she was thinking of, wasn't he?

"Promise me one thing though." 7 said, closing her eyes again. Maybe the dream figure and the real thing were one and the same after all. Dreams distorted image, changed the past and future. What did it matter if the one she loved was gone? She had him now, though it was for a very short time...

"What would that be?"

"Don't come back tomorrow night." 7 told him rather sternly, bringing herself right up close to the figure. There was nothing wrong with one dream, though several would probably be unhealthy. She had made her condition clear- he was bound to listen, no matter how much her body; mind and soul yearned for the form which lay in her bed at the very moment. They were wrapped in a tight embrace- a sensation that was better than orgasmic. The dream version of 9 let out a dry laugh.

"As you wish."

He was very warm, and very soft.

***

Of course, the best moments in life are exactly what they have been described to be- a moment. The dream had really been a fleeting rift in her dark imagination, leaving her feeling empty and drained, as if she had spent the night doing chin-ups instead of cuddling with what was probably 9's old pillow. She sat up, feeling rather disoriented. The was a great commotion occurring downstairs, though 7 wasn't quite sure whether 1 was yelling at the twins and 2 was defending them, or maybe 6 had gotten himself caught in a crack in the floor, or 8 hadn't really felt the grief until just then. All she could hear was a strange buzzing downstairs, like a celebration and a brawl and a strange- what was the word? Oh, yeah- family reunion of anti-social weirdos all rolled into one. She could hear her name being called from a distance- what was everyone doing awake, so early in the day? It was barely reaching dawn! She flopped back down onto the bed in exasperation, and for once slumber found her easily, and she dreamt of a great big nothing. A void which was actually rather pleasant.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Ok, the first part is in between the end of chapter 8 and the start of chapter 9. When it goes back to 7's POV, it's set after chapter 9. Enjoy!_**

* * *

There is no such thing as a miracle by coincidence. Both 1 and 2 had stood firmly by that, although their execution of the phrase was different. However, they both thought it true, and taught their beliefs to the younger ones. 2 could recall telling 5 that he could create his own miracles by working hard and never giving up. 8 remembered 1 telling him once that life is a miracle, but it was done on purpose, brought to being by somebody more powerful. Somehow, the phrase had kept its meaning through different ways of life, and it was silently appreciated.

_**It would be nice if we had a miracle. Maybe then 5 and 9 would appear; even it was just in our dreams. Wouldn't it be nice, 4?**_

_Of course it would. Sadly, in a world so decimated as ours, I fear that the word miracle doesn't apply to anything anymore. A miracle here would be if the world was reborn, if everything came back to life from their shallow graves. That is why we cannot forget. _

3 pondered her twin's opinion. Since 5 and 9's death, 4 had become more philosophical. She had truly reached her expectation- to teach the world.

_**You're doing a damn good job at philosophy, sister.**_

_Then again, there is always what 1 and 2 always said, 3. There is no such thing as a miracle by coincidence. For example, if 5 and 9 happened to be alive-_

_**Not a very good example, but go on.**_

_Hm. I know it isn't. Anyway, if 5 and 9 happened to be alive, then it would be because their souls fought for the right to live- somehow they willed themselves to survive, and maybe 5 would have fixed them both and they would have moved on. _

_**That would be so cool if that actually happened, don't you think?**_

_Indeed. _

4 sighed. She thought of 7, all tucked up in her bed in the floor above them. The rain had slowed down to heavy drizzle outside- calm enough to be outside in. It was getting a bit late- the watch that 2 had fixed for them read 8:50 PM. Most of the dolls went to sleep when it went dark- except perhaps the exception of 2, who stayed up with his projects, often falling asleep at his workbench, grease puddling around his face... The younger twin giggled silently at the recollection- the mischievous face that 5 gave them before showing them the humorous sight.

_**What are you thinking about?**_

_2 with his head in a puddle of grease. Remember when 5 woke us up just to show us that? He was such a good brother to us..._

_**He sure was, 4. He sure was. What about when he dropped that record and it went rolling down the hill! He looked rather comical that day.**_

_He was so sweet, giving 6 that shoulder ride. Poor 6, he hadn't seen the sun for a while._

_**!!!**_

4 stiffened at the single blink of her twin's eyes- a silent note of surprise. She had heard something- 4 knew this because of the way 3 pricked up, straining to hear words being spoken. 4 heard it too- she could hear 2 downstairs.

_What's got 2 so worked up?_

_**He can't believe something... whatever it is, it's very smashing!**_ 3 replied, implying a little parody of 2. 4 giggled again before 3 stood up suddenly.

_**There's another voice...!!!**_

_What?! What is it?_

_**You're not going to believe this... but I can hear-!!! Oh my- come on, 4! Quickly!!!**_  
_  
Wait! Wait for me!!! _4 blinked furiously, jumping to her feet and following 3 down the stairs. As she followed her twin down various corridors and winding trails through the cathedral, she could hear the other voice, too. The only difference was that 2 sounded rather serious. 3 stopped dead outside the door of the workshop, frozen like a statue. 4 hid behind her twin, her head peeking over her twin's shoulder. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"We couldn't really do much about the spring, but I- oh, hello!"

A miracle.

***

7 finally decided to wake up when 6 stumbled into her room, stuttering with excitement to a point that he wasn't even speaking coherently. She sat bolt upright, ready to shout verbal abuse.

"What is it?!"

"S-s-seve-7!! I-i-it's a-a wonder!!! They're b-b-back! Back! They're back!"

"What?"

"They're back!"

"What do you mean, they're back? Nobody went anywhere!" 7 pointed out, rather irritable by this point. She got out of bed right as 6 did a little happy dance right where he was standing.

"You g-got to c-come s-see! C-come see!!! The healer and the saviour, they're here!" 6 cried; yanking 7 out of her room before she could protest. Voices and words registered on her hearing sensors as they got closer to the throne room. Suddenly, 6 let go, dashing into the throne room. The curtain which acted as a door fell back down as he dashed through, and she only got a glimpse of everyone else clustered into a ring, though something was wrong with it. There seemed to be more than she recalled. The din on the other side of the curtain died almost as soon as 6 shouted 'She's here now!' She took a deep breath, trying not to let her mind jump to possibilities. Maybe they were having a surprise party to make her feel better- a weird reason to have a party, but it seemed logical. After about 10 seconds of wondering whether or not to go in, 3 ducked out from behind the curtain.

"It's not a party for me, is it?" she asked, letting impulse voice the first thing that came to her head. 3 shook her head, leaving 7 more confused than ever. Gently, 3 took her hand; her other hand pushing the curtain away and bringing 7 in from behind her. Everyone in the room seemed to be smiling back at her- 1 and 8 standing behind everyone else, smiling with their eyes and a slight pulling of the lips, 4 standing next to the guard with the happiest expression she had ever worn, 6 dancing around and motioning for 3 to join him (who obliged with gusto), 2 laughing joyfully as 9 nearly tripped over 5's leg-

_As 9 nearly tripped over 5's leg._


	11. Chapter 11

**_Last chapter! Hope you guys liked this as much as meh friends on the 9 forum did. _**

_

* * *

_

_9 and 5 were smiling back at her._

_9 and 5 were standing in front of her, living and breathing and talking-_

Her knees gave way. 7's hands flew to her mouth in astonishment, staring back at them wide-eyed. A little voice in her mind pointed out that she probably looked like an idiot, but she ignored it. The room fell from quiet to entirely silent as her mouth opened and closed, making no sound but her gasping for breath. The smiles faded to looks of concern- she closed her optics, head bowed. Light footsteps came closer, and a hand pulled her own away from her face. 7 opened her optics again, and 9 stared back at her, with his hopeful little smile. He looked so very real...

"We're alive. We're ok." 9 whispered. His voice was really there- such a sacred sound... Physical want won over mind, and 7 practically tackled the kneeling 9 to the ground as she threw her arms around him, holding him so tightly, so very tightly that he gave a little squeak of surprise.

"Mind him, 7." 2 said gently, though she did everything but ignore him.

"I thought I lost you." she whispered, her voice laced with a thousand meanings and emotions that she couldn't quite say in front of anyone, let alone understand herself. 9 returned the tight embrace, his cheek nuzzling hers just slightly. Just knowing that he was alive- there were no words to describe it.

"You nearly did." he admitted, before giving her the tiniest peck on the cheek. The celebrations began again- and for the first time in her existence, 7 relaxed. Everything was alright.

"I told you!!! The healer and the saviour have returned!!" 6 crowed. Laughter rang out among the stitch punks. 7 and 9 stood up simultaneously, though 7 pretended not to notice that 9 was fairly weaker than what she remembered. The group gathered together again, talking and laughing loudly.

"Do I get a hug like that, 7?" 5 asked jokingly. 7 grinned, giving the mechanic and healer a welcoming embrace. A knowing laugh was shared between 2 and 9 before she spoke again.

"How did you guys survive? Did 9 give you trouble?"

"It's kind of a long story... but we were very, very lucky." 5 replied, exchanging a glance with 9.

***

It had seemed like forever since 7 had last lay with 9 in the same bed, consciously knowing that he was there. The pair left no space between them- a necessary requirement. 7 gave sporadic kisses to 9's face- his cheek, his forehead, his neck. 9 breathed deeply and evenly; a soothing rhythm washing over her. Unfortunately, something was missing. There was something she needed- a few things, and she wasn't sure which need was greater. A small part of her wanted to cry; but she had cried far too often lately. The rest of her was divided evenly- she was on a knife's edge between the want for information and the want for physical passion.

"How did I nearly lose you?" Information won through. 9's face became a little nervous.

"It's pretty complicated. I don't want you to worry."

"But I will if you don't tell me. Besides, you guys had no problem complaining about 5's bum leg. What happened to you?" she persisted, moving a slight way away from her partner, shifting so her body was supported by her elbow. 9 became a little panicked, smiling a little and his vision switching to his hands, which squirmed a little. 7 took his free hand; kissing it, trying to comfort him.

"2 said something about keeping you calm. You're very nervous about this."

"It's kind of... serious." he admitted, staring at their linked appendages. 7 sighed.

"Not too serious that I'm not allowed to know." she pointed out softly. 9 exhaled for what seemed to be an abnormally long time, before sitting up beside her.

"I'm lucky to be here right now. That's how serious it was." he began, pulling his zipper a little way down. 7 gasped at what she saw inside his skin. Every stitch punk had a little trinket which ticked to simulate a heart beating, pulsing blood around the body. A small amount of oil coursed through each of them because of their little 'tickers'. 9's heart looked malformed- the result of a hasty repair?

"At some point that day, about 2 or 3 parts of my heart got dislodged or destroyed. 5 doubted that we'd be able to get back in time... we both thought I was going to die, 7. I nearly did, actually- about halfway back. 5 says I just collapsed... but somehow we made it home, and 2 fixed me up." he explained quietly, pulling up his zipper when he finished speaking. 7 stared at the spot where his heart was, unsure what to say. Her hand gripped his tightly. He was shaking slightly.

"I'm going to be fine once I get used to it. I'm a little weak at the moment, that's all."

"Weak?"

"That's why 2 wants me to stay relaxed." 9 answered quickly. 7 sighed again with a shudder, getting out of the bed. There was a chair in the corner- once a child's building block. She sat upon it, her face in her hands. Why did she ask? 9 went to her side, rubbing her shoulder.

"Hey. I'm alright. You're alright. That's all that matters, isn't it?" he asked. 7's eyes were closed during the moment when he pulled her to her feet and back down upon his lap, so she was perched with one foot on the block and the other dangling off the side. 9 looked rather concerned when 7 looked back up at him. Her voice was a little uneven when she spoke- crying, yet again.

"P-promise me one thing."

"Anything, 7."

"Promise me. Promise me you'll never leave again." she begged, her arms curling around his neck. Her head was tucked into the crook between his head and his shoulder, her eyes staring up at him.

"One thing is for sure- I've seen enough of outside for a long while." he admitted, kissing the top of her head again. They sat like that for a little while as she cried silently.

***

"You feeling any better?" 9 asked. 7 nodded. It had been perhaps 15 minutes, and now it was getting darker outside. The moon was full, shining onto them... like spilt milk on beige carpet. 7 laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You were here last night, weren't you?" she asked, smiling. He grinned back, nodding.

"You were asleep, or at least that's what you told me." he recounted as 7 stood up, pulling him up with her. The female warrior looked at the neophyte straight on before talking again.

"You should have kissed me. Actually, since you're here, why don't you do that now?" she asked. 9 laughed before leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the lips. 7 frowned- that's all it ever was; a quick exchange of affection. It was time that she got what she needed physically. She took 9's face in her hands tenderly, before leaning in closer. 9 looked a little confused.

"That wasn't what I had in mind... more like this..."

The kiss was slow, and deep, and passionate. It was a symphony performed in silence. A masterpiece painted by invisible ink. A story never written. The kiss was the most intimate thing ever experienced by both parties involved, and neither wanted to stop. Sadly, they ran out of breath- but 7 brought 9 onto the bed with just the right amount of eagerness.

"7... I-" 9 managed to let out before they kissed again, somehow bringing on a pleasurable sensation never experienced by their kind. 7 lay down, bringing 9 with her. Nothing happened beyond that- just kissing, and random gasps for air. Satisfaction filled the room, and love filled their hearts.

_Your faith was strong, but you needed proof  
You saw her bathing on the roof  
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you._

_She tied you to your kitchen chair  
She broke your throne, she cut your hair  
And from your lips she drew a-_

"Hallelujah." 9 whispered abruptly. It was a warm whisper, bringing light to the darkness again.

* * *

**_And that brings this here fanfiction to a close. The song verse was Hallelujah by Rufus Wainwright... (though a few other people did that song, too. I dunno who did the original.) HOWEVER IF YOU GUYS WANT... I am also intrigued by what 5 and 9 got up to while they were 'dead'. Maybe I'll explore that?_**


End file.
